3rd in the Fearful Symmetry series. You must read Fearful Symmetry and
Can't Fight This Feeling first to get it.
Rating: G. Really. Pure fluff. Try it; you'll like it (I hope).
Disclaimer: Not my characters, etc., etc.
Pairing: H/C.
***
"Welcome back," said Alexx as Calleigh entered the CSI labs. Speed and Delko were both hovering around as well, grinning ear to ear. "Nice to have at least one of the missing back with us."
"Yeah," said Speed, "but next time you want some time off, just take a vacation, okay?"
"You got it," said Calleigh. "Easier all around. So how have things been?"
"How do you think?" said Delko. "Pull out two of our best people, and leave the rest of us with all the work . . ." He stopped, unable to keep the stern tone in his voice. The smile kept pushing it aside.
Speed's cell phone interrupted them. He answered it, frowned slightly, and snapped it back together with a sharp click. "Duty calls," he said. "Murder over on the north side. Let's go, Eric."
"What about me?" said Calleigh.
"Better to ease back into it," said Speed. "Besides, you should see the stack of paperwork waiting for you. You went off and got shot without filling out all your ballistics reports first."
"Welcome back," Calleigh said glumly. "You guys call me if you need me, okay?"
"You got it." Delko and Speed were off, but Alexx touched Calleigh lightly on the arm, holding her back as she turned toward the ballistics lab. "How are you really feeling, honey?"
"About 85% and gaining," Calleigh said truthfully. "My shoulder still aches a bit at times, but it's getting better every day. I even went out to the range this weekend and shot for a few hours."
"Don't push it too hard, okay?" Calleigh nodded. "What about Horatio?"
"I went over this morning to fix him breakfast, and he was already grumbling about doing nothing. What I'm worried about is in a week or two. He's still sore enough that he really can't do much. He got awfully banged up when that bridge collapsed. But you know him. He's going to want to come back before he's really ready." She grinned, remembering the look on Horatio's face three days ago when the neurosurgeon was discharging him from the hospital.
"A month?" He couldn't believe it. "You want me to do nothing for a month?"
"At least a month, and then we'll see." The doctor wouldn't budge. "And I mean nothing. No exertion of any kind, no stress. This was a very serious injury, and you need to give yourself time to heal."
"I've stayed here for two weeks," Horatio grumbled. Right, thought Calleigh, and half of it in ICU. She wasn't in any doubt how close she had come to losing him.
"One month," the doctor insisted. He looked at Calleigh. "Chain him to the couch if you have to, but keep him quiet."
Alexx's warm chuckle broke into Calleigh's reverie. "I never thought I'd say this, but it might be a good thing he's got a broken ankle. That ought to slow him down some."
"I hope," said Calleigh. "If this morning is any indication, I might have to chain him to the couch before long."
"If you need a fellow prison warden, let me know," said Alexx. She gave Calleigh's arm a friendly squeeze. "I really am glad to see you back, Calleigh. This place just isn't the same without you."
Calleigh reluctantly plowed into the stack of paperwork waiting for her. She absolutely hated paperwork, like all of her coworkers. She imagined the much bigger stack that would greet Horatio on his return and smiled to herself. Boy, that ought to please him. Reminded of him, she pulled out the phone to give him a call, just to check on him, but the line was busy. She tried again two minutes later; same thing. That's odd, she thought, then shoved the thought to the back of her mind, focusing again on the work. There wasn't much trouble Horatio could get in today; in spite of his protests, he really didn't feel like doing anything yet.
She was interrupted about an hour later by the captain, coming over personally to welcome her back, although he rarely set foot in CSI. "Ms. Duquesne," he said, shaking her hand warmly. "Welcome back. We certainly can't afford to lose people like you."
"Thank you, Captain Martin," she said. She looked at the stack of paperwork. "At least I know I was missed."
He smiled. "You should see the stacks I have to deal with," and she laughed with him. He was right; the paperwork only increased as you went up the ladder. "There's one other thing I wanted to talk to you CSIs about, though. How is Lieutenant Caine?"
"He's going to be alright, but he's still got a ways to go," she said. "He nearly died, you know."
"Yes, I do. I must say, I haven't had such an outpouring of public support for the PD in a long time. That entire bridge collapse was filmed by a traffic helicopter, you know."
"I saw it."
"3/4 of Miami saw it. The way Horatio went back after that child was incredible. And of course, he just about saved everybody on the bridge. It never would have been cleared in time if he hadn't been right there and taken charge. It has really struck a public chord." Calleigh suddenly saw where this was heading. "So the city would like to honor him."
"You mean a banquet, citations, that sort of thing?"
"Right, a real opportunity for the city and the citizens to express their appreciation."
And he's supposed to avoid stress, Calleigh thought. Horatio would probably hitchhike from Miami to California in spite of his broken ankle to avoid a big ceremony like that. He hated limelight. "It's a good idea, Captain, but I think it will have to wait a bit. Horatio really isn't in any kind of shape to deal with it yet. He just got out of the hospital three days ago."
"Well, of course, we don't want to rush him," said the captain. "We'll wait until he's fit for it. But we do want to recognize him. He's earned it, don't you think?"
"Absolutely," said Calleigh. Yes, he deserved every award and every round of applause they wanted to give him. It was just that he would hate it.
"Well, keep me posted on his recovery," said the captain. "And welcome back, yourself." He left, and Calleigh turned back to the stack of papers. So paperwork isn't all you have to look forward to, Horatio, she thought. Half of her sympathized with what she knew his response would be, while half of her longed to see him up on a platform, getting the accolades he had earned. She dialed his number again while she was thinking of him. The line was busy.
***
Calleigh slipped her key, still shiny and new, into the lock on Horatio's front door and let herself in. Absolute silence hung over the house, and for one second, worry seized her. She never had gotten through on the phone all day. What if something had happened to him? Suppose he had collapsed in agony and knocked the phone off the hook on his way down? What if one of the many criminals he had taken down had broken into the house to get revenge while his victim was helpless? While her imagination was still creating scenarios, she spotted him. He was asleep on the couch, and Calleigh, suddenly struck with solicitude, eased out of her shoes and set her purse down quietly on the table, not wanting to disturb him. She padded to the end of the couch in bare feet and just stood there for a moment, looking at him.
She had to admit, Horatio had looked better. He still had the right side of his head bandaged, and the stitched gash down the side of his face stood out ugly red against his pale skin. Fading bruises and healing cuts covered his arms and hands, and his left ankle in its cast was propped up on a pillow. Now that he was asleep, unguarded, the ordeal of the last few weeks was written plainly on his face. Yet she thought he was absolutely beautiful. Suddenly she wanted to give him a medal herself, wanted to show the whole world what he was.
Calleigh frowned slightly, one minor detail suddenly jumping out of the scene to her trained mind. Horatio had the phone on his chest, both hands holding it like a lifeline as he slept. How odd, she thought. What has he been doing today? Who has he been talking to so much?
The phone rang, and she jumped forward to get it before it disturbed him. No chance. He snapped awake instantly and answered it after only one ring. His eyes met hers over the receiver, smiling at her, and she returned the smile while trying to fill in the blanks from half a conversation.
"Did you get it?" Horatio's eyes were as intent as she had ever seen them on a crime scene. "By noon tomorrow. Wonderful. I really do appreciate this, Mr. Howell. Thank you for all of your help today. And thank our friend for me, too." He hung up the phone and surrendered it to Calleigh as she reached for it. "Hi. How was your first day back?"
"Paperwork," she moaned. "And you should see the stack that's waiting for you." He rolled his eyes, and she sat down on the floor next to the couch, touching him gently. "What have you been doing with yourself today? Were you good?"
"I was so good I couldn't stand it," he said. "A month of this is going to drive me straight up the wall. That doctor will send me back to work to avoid stress."
"Who were you talking to just now? And all day, I haven't been able to reach you."
"It's a surprise," he said, his blue eyes dancing.
"Horatio, I hate surprises."
"Well, this one isn't for you. I think you'll approve, though."
"Who is it for, then?"
"Eric. Can you manage to get him to come over here after work tomorrow?"
"I'll try." She tried to see through him, to look into his mind, and gave up. He had no intention of sharing this secret, and he was enjoying stringing her along. She reached out and stroked the uncut side of his face. "I hope you didn't wear yourself out plotting secrets, though. You do look tired."
"I promise, I did nothing but lie on the couch and make phone calls. Maybe you could bring me some of that paperwork in a few days, though."
"You're asking for paperwork?" She slipped her hand up to his forehead mockingly. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"
"I'm fine. I just wish I could convince that doctor."
"You're not fine, and you're not coming back to work early." She scrambled to her feet. "I'd better get dinner going."
"You don't have to come over here and wait on me hand and foot, Cal. I can feed myself."
"Just making sure you behave. A month was the minimum, you know." She smiled at his grimace and headed for the kitchen, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he hauled himself up to a sitting position. It was getting better, but she could see how much it still hurt him to move. You aren't fine yet, Horatio, and you know it, she thought. Getting him to accept it was going to be the hard part. At least he had found something to occupy himself today. What on earth was he planning for Eric? The rest of the evening, while they ate and while she cleaned up, she tried to get clues from him, but he wouldn't budge. He was enjoying this. It was only much later, as she was driving home after tucking him into bed, that she remembered that she hadn't told him about Captain Martin's idea for a public appreciation banquet.
***
Eric followed Calleigh into Horatio's house the next evening. He had never been there, and he looked curiously around. Horatio was sitting up, although his ankle was still propped on the couch, and he had a small envelope on the coffee table next to him. "H, good to see you," said Eric. "You're looking better." Eric could honestly say that. He still remembered how Horatio had looked when Eric had first fished him out of the canal. He hadn't even been sure his boss was alive at first.
"Eric, I've got something for you." Horatio's eyes, so often intense and piercing, were softened now, yet absolutely focused. "I decided I never really have thanked you properly for pulling me out of the 18th canal."
Eric immediately ducked from the recognition. He's as bad as Horatio, thought Calleigh. "No problem, H. Just glad I was there."
"No, it really was something to be proud of. You risked your life, diving in right after that collapse. And I would have died if you hadn't. So would the baby." That was absolutely true. Horatio had been trapped under the water, and without Eric's instant intervention, he would died on the spot. Horatio reached for the envelope. "So I made a few calls yesterday." A few, snorted Calleigh to herself. "And I've got two tokens of appreciation for you." He withdrew an 8 x 10 picture from the envelope first of all, handing it over. Calleigh saw Eric's look change from sheepish embarrassment to excitement instantly, and she moved around to look over his shoulder.
The picture was of a man in a swimming outfit, with several medals around his neck. Across the bottom, it was signed, "To Eric Delko, a true champion," and below that a signature that even she had heard of.
"H, this is . . . " Eric broke off, gripping the picture like it would disappear. "He's won more Olympic medals than any other swimmer in history. Geez, I don't know what to say. How did you get this?"
"Just a few calls, like I said. Once he found out what you had done, he was glad to oblige. He said you were an inspiration." He reached back into the envelope, and Eric reluctantly looked up from the picture. Surely, anything after this would be an anticlimax. He almost collapsed as he saw what Horatio was holding now. It was a gold medal.
"I couldn't get an Olympic one; they're in short supply. But this one is special made. Kneel down here now, where I can reach you."
Eric knelt next to him, and Horatio slipped the medal around his neck with as much ceremony as the presenters at the Olympics. "Thank you for everything," he said. Eric pulled the medal around to read it. It actually looked like an Olympic medal, but on closer inspection, the inscription read, "The Olympics of Life, gold medal performance. Won by Eric Delko on June 17, 2003, in Miami." Eric looked at it, then looked back at Horatio. His eyes were shining.
"You're welcome, H," he said. "I'm glad I was there for you." He reached forward and shook his boss's hand, then abruptly bolted to his feet. "I've got to go show this to Laura. You guys mind if I leave now?"
"Go ahead," said Horatio. Then, as Eric sprinted for the door, he called out, "Don't forget the picture."
"Right." Eric swung back to pick up the picture. He could already see it framed by his bed. But it was the medal that touched him more. "The Olympics of Life," he read again as he trotted out to the car. His own gold medal. His lifelong dream come true. No, better than a dream, he told himself. This one meant more than an actual Olympic medal. Not just the esteem of the world, but the esteem of his friends.
Back in the house, Calleigh gave Horatio a look of pure adoration. "You never cease to amaze me," she said softly. "That was one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever seen."
He smiled, enjoying Eric's enjoyment. "Did you see his eyes light up? And he did like the medal more than the picture. I hoped he would, but I thought I'd give him both." Calleigh sat down on the couch next to him, careful not to jolt him too much, and he leaned against her. "I really did want to thank him, but I knew that a public ceremony wouldn't mean as much. He hates the limelight."
Limelight. "Oh, Horatio, I've been forgetting to tell you. Captain Martin came by yesterday to ask after you. He wants to give you a public appreciation banquet."
He straightened up so quickly it hurt him. "A ceremony? A public ceremony?"
"Yep. With hoopla, and speeches, and the key to the city. And all the Miami newspapers covering it."
Horatio was absolutely frozen in horror. "What did you tell him?"
An imp of mischief suddenly awakened in Calleigh's own eyes. "I told him I thought it was an absolutely marvelous idea." He groaned, and she twisted the knife in further. "I told him how much you deserved it, and how wonderful it would be to let the whole city honor you. We even could have the mayor proclaim it Horatio Caine Day." His eyes, meeting hers, pleaded for some escape, and she dropped the other shoe. "But I also told him that you weren't really in shape for it yet. That you'd been through so much, and the doctor wanted you to avoid stress and just rest for a while."
Horatio relaxed a fraction. "What did he say?"
"He said fine, he'd wait. He'll be watching for you to come back to work, though, so he'll know when you're up to it."
The puzzle pieces clicked into place instantly. "Calleigh," he pleaded, "that's absolutely wicked."
"Yep," she said with satisfaction. "Looks like you'd better lay low for a while, because Captain Martin is waiting. Maybe if you stay away long enough, he'll forget about it, although I doubt it."
"That's a perfect Catch-22," he protested. "You can't do this!"
"Watch me," she said. "So, are you going to stay home and rest, or do you want to advance directly to public acclaim?"
Horatio's blue eyes pleaded with hers, but she met them directly. For once, she was going to have the last word. His eyes fell first. "I guess a month isn't too long to stay away," he mumbled.
Having won her point, Calleigh slipped her arm around him and hugged him fiercely, instantly relaxing her grip as he winced. "And who knows," she promised him, "if you can behave yourself through this next month, I might have a surprise for you myself."
Rating: G. Really. Pure fluff. Try it; you'll like it (I hope).
Disclaimer: Not my characters, etc., etc.
Pairing: H/C.
***
"Welcome back," said Alexx as Calleigh entered the CSI labs. Speed and Delko were both hovering around as well, grinning ear to ear. "Nice to have at least one of the missing back with us."
"Yeah," said Speed, "but next time you want some time off, just take a vacation, okay?"
"You got it," said Calleigh. "Easier all around. So how have things been?"
"How do you think?" said Delko. "Pull out two of our best people, and leave the rest of us with all the work . . ." He stopped, unable to keep the stern tone in his voice. The smile kept pushing it aside.
Speed's cell phone interrupted them. He answered it, frowned slightly, and snapped it back together with a sharp click. "Duty calls," he said. "Murder over on the north side. Let's go, Eric."
"What about me?" said Calleigh.
"Better to ease back into it," said Speed. "Besides, you should see the stack of paperwork waiting for you. You went off and got shot without filling out all your ballistics reports first."
"Welcome back," Calleigh said glumly. "You guys call me if you need me, okay?"
"You got it." Delko and Speed were off, but Alexx touched Calleigh lightly on the arm, holding her back as she turned toward the ballistics lab. "How are you really feeling, honey?"
"About 85% and gaining," Calleigh said truthfully. "My shoulder still aches a bit at times, but it's getting better every day. I even went out to the range this weekend and shot for a few hours."
"Don't push it too hard, okay?" Calleigh nodded. "What about Horatio?"
"I went over this morning to fix him breakfast, and he was already grumbling about doing nothing. What I'm worried about is in a week or two. He's still sore enough that he really can't do much. He got awfully banged up when that bridge collapsed. But you know him. He's going to want to come back before he's really ready." She grinned, remembering the look on Horatio's face three days ago when the neurosurgeon was discharging him from the hospital.
"A month?" He couldn't believe it. "You want me to do nothing for a month?"
"At least a month, and then we'll see." The doctor wouldn't budge. "And I mean nothing. No exertion of any kind, no stress. This was a very serious injury, and you need to give yourself time to heal."
"I've stayed here for two weeks," Horatio grumbled. Right, thought Calleigh, and half of it in ICU. She wasn't in any doubt how close she had come to losing him.
"One month," the doctor insisted. He looked at Calleigh. "Chain him to the couch if you have to, but keep him quiet."
Alexx's warm chuckle broke into Calleigh's reverie. "I never thought I'd say this, but it might be a good thing he's got a broken ankle. That ought to slow him down some."
"I hope," said Calleigh. "If this morning is any indication, I might have to chain him to the couch before long."
"If you need a fellow prison warden, let me know," said Alexx. She gave Calleigh's arm a friendly squeeze. "I really am glad to see you back, Calleigh. This place just isn't the same without you."
Calleigh reluctantly plowed into the stack of paperwork waiting for her. She absolutely hated paperwork, like all of her coworkers. She imagined the much bigger stack that would greet Horatio on his return and smiled to herself. Boy, that ought to please him. Reminded of him, she pulled out the phone to give him a call, just to check on him, but the line was busy. She tried again two minutes later; same thing. That's odd, she thought, then shoved the thought to the back of her mind, focusing again on the work. There wasn't much trouble Horatio could get in today; in spite of his protests, he really didn't feel like doing anything yet.
She was interrupted about an hour later by the captain, coming over personally to welcome her back, although he rarely set foot in CSI. "Ms. Duquesne," he said, shaking her hand warmly. "Welcome back. We certainly can't afford to lose people like you."
"Thank you, Captain Martin," she said. She looked at the stack of paperwork. "At least I know I was missed."
He smiled. "You should see the stacks I have to deal with," and she laughed with him. He was right; the paperwork only increased as you went up the ladder. "There's one other thing I wanted to talk to you CSIs about, though. How is Lieutenant Caine?"
"He's going to be alright, but he's still got a ways to go," she said. "He nearly died, you know."
"Yes, I do. I must say, I haven't had such an outpouring of public support for the PD in a long time. That entire bridge collapse was filmed by a traffic helicopter, you know."
"I saw it."
"3/4 of Miami saw it. The way Horatio went back after that child was incredible. And of course, he just about saved everybody on the bridge. It never would have been cleared in time if he hadn't been right there and taken charge. It has really struck a public chord." Calleigh suddenly saw where this was heading. "So the city would like to honor him."
"You mean a banquet, citations, that sort of thing?"
"Right, a real opportunity for the city and the citizens to express their appreciation."
And he's supposed to avoid stress, Calleigh thought. Horatio would probably hitchhike from Miami to California in spite of his broken ankle to avoid a big ceremony like that. He hated limelight. "It's a good idea, Captain, but I think it will have to wait a bit. Horatio really isn't in any kind of shape to deal with it yet. He just got out of the hospital three days ago."
"Well, of course, we don't want to rush him," said the captain. "We'll wait until he's fit for it. But we do want to recognize him. He's earned it, don't you think?"
"Absolutely," said Calleigh. Yes, he deserved every award and every round of applause they wanted to give him. It was just that he would hate it.
"Well, keep me posted on his recovery," said the captain. "And welcome back, yourself." He left, and Calleigh turned back to the stack of papers. So paperwork isn't all you have to look forward to, Horatio, she thought. Half of her sympathized with what she knew his response would be, while half of her longed to see him up on a platform, getting the accolades he had earned. She dialed his number again while she was thinking of him. The line was busy.
***
Calleigh slipped her key, still shiny and new, into the lock on Horatio's front door and let herself in. Absolute silence hung over the house, and for one second, worry seized her. She never had gotten through on the phone all day. What if something had happened to him? Suppose he had collapsed in agony and knocked the phone off the hook on his way down? What if one of the many criminals he had taken down had broken into the house to get revenge while his victim was helpless? While her imagination was still creating scenarios, she spotted him. He was asleep on the couch, and Calleigh, suddenly struck with solicitude, eased out of her shoes and set her purse down quietly on the table, not wanting to disturb him. She padded to the end of the couch in bare feet and just stood there for a moment, looking at him.
She had to admit, Horatio had looked better. He still had the right side of his head bandaged, and the stitched gash down the side of his face stood out ugly red against his pale skin. Fading bruises and healing cuts covered his arms and hands, and his left ankle in its cast was propped up on a pillow. Now that he was asleep, unguarded, the ordeal of the last few weeks was written plainly on his face. Yet she thought he was absolutely beautiful. Suddenly she wanted to give him a medal herself, wanted to show the whole world what he was.
Calleigh frowned slightly, one minor detail suddenly jumping out of the scene to her trained mind. Horatio had the phone on his chest, both hands holding it like a lifeline as he slept. How odd, she thought. What has he been doing today? Who has he been talking to so much?
The phone rang, and she jumped forward to get it before it disturbed him. No chance. He snapped awake instantly and answered it after only one ring. His eyes met hers over the receiver, smiling at her, and she returned the smile while trying to fill in the blanks from half a conversation.
"Did you get it?" Horatio's eyes were as intent as she had ever seen them on a crime scene. "By noon tomorrow. Wonderful. I really do appreciate this, Mr. Howell. Thank you for all of your help today. And thank our friend for me, too." He hung up the phone and surrendered it to Calleigh as she reached for it. "Hi. How was your first day back?"
"Paperwork," she moaned. "And you should see the stack that's waiting for you." He rolled his eyes, and she sat down on the floor next to the couch, touching him gently. "What have you been doing with yourself today? Were you good?"
"I was so good I couldn't stand it," he said. "A month of this is going to drive me straight up the wall. That doctor will send me back to work to avoid stress."
"Who were you talking to just now? And all day, I haven't been able to reach you."
"It's a surprise," he said, his blue eyes dancing.
"Horatio, I hate surprises."
"Well, this one isn't for you. I think you'll approve, though."
"Who is it for, then?"
"Eric. Can you manage to get him to come over here after work tomorrow?"
"I'll try." She tried to see through him, to look into his mind, and gave up. He had no intention of sharing this secret, and he was enjoying stringing her along. She reached out and stroked the uncut side of his face. "I hope you didn't wear yourself out plotting secrets, though. You do look tired."
"I promise, I did nothing but lie on the couch and make phone calls. Maybe you could bring me some of that paperwork in a few days, though."
"You're asking for paperwork?" She slipped her hand up to his forehead mockingly. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"
"I'm fine. I just wish I could convince that doctor."
"You're not fine, and you're not coming back to work early." She scrambled to her feet. "I'd better get dinner going."
"You don't have to come over here and wait on me hand and foot, Cal. I can feed myself."
"Just making sure you behave. A month was the minimum, you know." She smiled at his grimace and headed for the kitchen, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he hauled himself up to a sitting position. It was getting better, but she could see how much it still hurt him to move. You aren't fine yet, Horatio, and you know it, she thought. Getting him to accept it was going to be the hard part. At least he had found something to occupy himself today. What on earth was he planning for Eric? The rest of the evening, while they ate and while she cleaned up, she tried to get clues from him, but he wouldn't budge. He was enjoying this. It was only much later, as she was driving home after tucking him into bed, that she remembered that she hadn't told him about Captain Martin's idea for a public appreciation banquet.
***
Eric followed Calleigh into Horatio's house the next evening. He had never been there, and he looked curiously around. Horatio was sitting up, although his ankle was still propped on the couch, and he had a small envelope on the coffee table next to him. "H, good to see you," said Eric. "You're looking better." Eric could honestly say that. He still remembered how Horatio had looked when Eric had first fished him out of the canal. He hadn't even been sure his boss was alive at first.
"Eric, I've got something for you." Horatio's eyes, so often intense and piercing, were softened now, yet absolutely focused. "I decided I never really have thanked you properly for pulling me out of the 18th canal."
Eric immediately ducked from the recognition. He's as bad as Horatio, thought Calleigh. "No problem, H. Just glad I was there."
"No, it really was something to be proud of. You risked your life, diving in right after that collapse. And I would have died if you hadn't. So would the baby." That was absolutely true. Horatio had been trapped under the water, and without Eric's instant intervention, he would died on the spot. Horatio reached for the envelope. "So I made a few calls yesterday." A few, snorted Calleigh to herself. "And I've got two tokens of appreciation for you." He withdrew an 8 x 10 picture from the envelope first of all, handing it over. Calleigh saw Eric's look change from sheepish embarrassment to excitement instantly, and she moved around to look over his shoulder.
The picture was of a man in a swimming outfit, with several medals around his neck. Across the bottom, it was signed, "To Eric Delko, a true champion," and below that a signature that even she had heard of.
"H, this is . . . " Eric broke off, gripping the picture like it would disappear. "He's won more Olympic medals than any other swimmer in history. Geez, I don't know what to say. How did you get this?"
"Just a few calls, like I said. Once he found out what you had done, he was glad to oblige. He said you were an inspiration." He reached back into the envelope, and Eric reluctantly looked up from the picture. Surely, anything after this would be an anticlimax. He almost collapsed as he saw what Horatio was holding now. It was a gold medal.
"I couldn't get an Olympic one; they're in short supply. But this one is special made. Kneel down here now, where I can reach you."
Eric knelt next to him, and Horatio slipped the medal around his neck with as much ceremony as the presenters at the Olympics. "Thank you for everything," he said. Eric pulled the medal around to read it. It actually looked like an Olympic medal, but on closer inspection, the inscription read, "The Olympics of Life, gold medal performance. Won by Eric Delko on June 17, 2003, in Miami." Eric looked at it, then looked back at Horatio. His eyes were shining.
"You're welcome, H," he said. "I'm glad I was there for you." He reached forward and shook his boss's hand, then abruptly bolted to his feet. "I've got to go show this to Laura. You guys mind if I leave now?"
"Go ahead," said Horatio. Then, as Eric sprinted for the door, he called out, "Don't forget the picture."
"Right." Eric swung back to pick up the picture. He could already see it framed by his bed. But it was the medal that touched him more. "The Olympics of Life," he read again as he trotted out to the car. His own gold medal. His lifelong dream come true. No, better than a dream, he told himself. This one meant more than an actual Olympic medal. Not just the esteem of the world, but the esteem of his friends.
Back in the house, Calleigh gave Horatio a look of pure adoration. "You never cease to amaze me," she said softly. "That was one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever seen."
He smiled, enjoying Eric's enjoyment. "Did you see his eyes light up? And he did like the medal more than the picture. I hoped he would, but I thought I'd give him both." Calleigh sat down on the couch next to him, careful not to jolt him too much, and he leaned against her. "I really did want to thank him, but I knew that a public ceremony wouldn't mean as much. He hates the limelight."
Limelight. "Oh, Horatio, I've been forgetting to tell you. Captain Martin came by yesterday to ask after you. He wants to give you a public appreciation banquet."
He straightened up so quickly it hurt him. "A ceremony? A public ceremony?"
"Yep. With hoopla, and speeches, and the key to the city. And all the Miami newspapers covering it."
Horatio was absolutely frozen in horror. "What did you tell him?"
An imp of mischief suddenly awakened in Calleigh's own eyes. "I told him I thought it was an absolutely marvelous idea." He groaned, and she twisted the knife in further. "I told him how much you deserved it, and how wonderful it would be to let the whole city honor you. We even could have the mayor proclaim it Horatio Caine Day." His eyes, meeting hers, pleaded for some escape, and she dropped the other shoe. "But I also told him that you weren't really in shape for it yet. That you'd been through so much, and the doctor wanted you to avoid stress and just rest for a while."
Horatio relaxed a fraction. "What did he say?"
"He said fine, he'd wait. He'll be watching for you to come back to work, though, so he'll know when you're up to it."
The puzzle pieces clicked into place instantly. "Calleigh," he pleaded, "that's absolutely wicked."
"Yep," she said with satisfaction. "Looks like you'd better lay low for a while, because Captain Martin is waiting. Maybe if you stay away long enough, he'll forget about it, although I doubt it."
"That's a perfect Catch-22," he protested. "You can't do this!"
"Watch me," she said. "So, are you going to stay home and rest, or do you want to advance directly to public acclaim?"
Horatio's blue eyes pleaded with hers, but she met them directly. For once, she was going to have the last word. His eyes fell first. "I guess a month isn't too long to stay away," he mumbled.
Having won her point, Calleigh slipped her arm around him and hugged him fiercely, instantly relaxing her grip as he winced. "And who knows," she promised him, "if you can behave yourself through this next month, I might have a surprise for you myself."